Riseon Feravel Sundragon
by She-Ninja
Summary: Origionally supposed to be a oneshot. Theozsal Darkstar just has to get this package to Telaar. But it turns out a certain Sundragon is the owner of the refuge he takes when an unexpected storm hits.
1. Part 1

_(Summery) Theozsal Darkstar is just supposed to get this package to Telaar ASAP, but the storm blew in and nobody saw it coming. Seeing a possible refuge, he ends up meeting a Sundragon who is wary of this traveler. What ends up between the two?_

_Wow... This was seriously supposed to be a oneshot with an Epilogue. Aaaaaand then little plotbunny suckerpunched me and here I am at 3:30 in the morning, finishing of what I started yesterday. Needless to say, minor editing is all that I have done. I split it up into around ten page sections so it was an easier read. And also, I have never played an Alliance to very high levels, so I'm going out on a limb here. Oh jeez I'm scared..._

_By the by... I don't own Blizzard stuff. Y'know, like Nagrand and Mag'har and Nether Drakes and all that fun stuff. _

_Man, I'm f p! off that I didn't get a g d Blizzcon ticket. If anyone knows where I can get two (One for me, one for Father Ray) PLEASE... PLEASE let me know. I would be forever in your DEBT!!_

_...On with the show._

* * *

The fields of Nagrand were swept by harshly cold winds and battered by loose debris. The sky grumbled and boiled, unfurling thunderclouds that made the Mag'har nod solemnly and bow to the spirits, who, apparently, 'felt the need to unburden themselves'. The storm built tensions in the air, pressing travelers to quicken their step on the paths across the land to a faster pace.

As dark fell and the wind died down slowly to give way to roars of thunder and slaps of lightning that struck the land, a small light in the distance gave Theozsal Darkstar a gasp of hope. He knew he was nowhere near Telaar, and could only hope that it was a campfire, and not a lamppost leading to the Horde camp. Garadar, or something like that. Theozsal chose not to concern himself with the Horde's placement in Outland, having enough trouble with his own faction to bother with. His charge squirmed again, reminding him of his course with a squall.

Wincing, he glanced around. It was not yet dark enough for his night vision to kick in, though neither was it bright enough to see clearly. He would be easy prey made easier if his package for delivery would not be silent.

Theozsal wavered, waiting another second on the beaten path that meandered south, leaning towards the firelight. It was so cold! If he could just warm himself and feed his company, perhaps he could reach Telaar before the storm reached its worst and began to empty itself of water. If his leg was aching, he chose to pretend it did not effect his decision as he kneed his mount off of their course, and towards what he hoped was a friendly, or at least neutral, fire.

And if Isel and Luftasia chose to be angry with him for not arriving on time, he had decided already to lie to them. He could only take so much of his Draenei admirers before he lost interest, to be honest.

Padding across the plains, his charge squawked angrily, as if it knew he was deliberately taking a detour. His other mount cawed in response, quieting the small beast that was tucked against the rider's bravely exposed warm belly.

In the distance, above the firelight and in a tree, some other creature roared in response to their banter. The small beast at Theozsal's front quivered, mercifully silenced, and his secondary mount grumbled to itself for a moment before screaming across the distance.

Theozsal paused, suddenly very wary. At this behavior, he was almost certain that the owner of the campfire was not of the Alliance, and that gave him enough pause to reconsider his decision. Dare he take his cargo towards enemy hands? His own hands tightened on the furs that he wrapped his charge in. The familiar weight of his swords swung easily at his waist, the welcome warmth of his mount a comfort beneath him. Perhaps he could finish the distance now, and find Telaar when the storm reached full darkness. The feathers of his other mount ruffled, a silky sound that eased his mind.

About to turn back to the road, his leg pounded a deep ache that resonated up into his chest. Swearing under his breath, Theozsal released one hand from his burden and gripped his pained leg. Concerned, his mount craned his head to try to see what hurt its owner. Grimacing, he released his leg and stroked the creature's fur.

"Easy, Nychta 'Zoou." He crooned. The pain in his leg eased lightly, enough that he was able to press Nychta towards the light again. He pointedly ignored his reason that told him to prepare for battle.

* * *

It was a nice fire pit. The sides were a smooth rock that kept the heat contained, and it was curved so the wind could sweep the smoke up and disperse it quickly. She was particularly proud of the hot coals that fell into the cusp in the curve that she shimmied just so they could. Coals were her favorite; they were the true heart of the fire. She was at ease as she fed the fire with more wood and bits of dry grass absent-mindedly, using her large sword to maneuver the stones that contained her source of heat.

The storm was picking up. She felt it in the air- some magic was stirring the boiling clouds. She paid it little mind. What harm could a mere thunderstorm bring? She had experienced them on Azeroth. Surely the ley lines that arced overhead would not cause some sort of acid rain, and thus she felt safe next to the tree and small hill that cast a shadow over her in the night.

A sudden caw broke through the rumble of thunder. Her ears perked, eyes scanning the plains across the fire. She could see little, but her senses told her something was coming. Still at ease, she laid her blade aside, angling the hilt so it was in easy reach.

Above her, her mount roared some challenge. She ignored him, instead waiting for some sort of movement.

The responding scream in the night made her eyes narrow. Her suspicions were confirmed; An Alliance approached.

Wary at last, she called her mount to her back and waited.

When the rider appeared, she was standing, her Nether Drake half curled around her, its eyes boring into the offending person.

* * *

Theozsal froze upon reaching the firelight. His eyes told him what his ears mistook as a mere Windrider. A full-grown Nether Drake curled around a shadowed figure. He noted their long ears and quickly recognized their elfish-ness, but could not see the glow of the figure's eyes to determine of what race they were.

Swallowing nervously, he hailed the shadow in his smooth common. "Greetings, traveler."

The figure did not immediately respond, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest for a few moments. He wondered bleakly if he was going to die in the next few minutes, before the champion responded in a silky common, "Greetings and well wishes, Ippeas."

For a moment he wondered if she, for her voice betrayed her sex, mistook him for someone, until he remembered the word from an old tongue. Being called 'rider' didn't seem very demeaning, but all the same he dismounted from his feline uneasily, keeping his charge concealed and praying it didn't give itself away.

"I was caught under the storm's first waves when I saw you're firelight." He explained, still nervous. "I mean you no harm, whatever race you may be."

Theozsal never thought to bother with praying to Elune before a battle, but took a moment now to pray for good fortune for the night. The worst that could happen, aside from her being a bloodthirsty Alliance slayer, would be if she was some child of an important Blood Elf family. Theozsal had heard many a tale of Humans and Night Elves angering powerful families, and were punished horribly as much as years later by a force of skilled elves.

He hoped he was never remembered for being one of them.

"Well," she began, and he detected a laugh hiding in her voice, "can you not tell that I am an elf?"

He bowed lightly. "Indeed I can. But there is no doubt that while some of our kind are peaceful by nature, there are just as many angry ones, bloodthirsty for revenge."

"Which side of the line do you stand on, Ippeas?"

Theozsal got the feeling she viewed him as some sort of curious experiment, and prayed again to Elune that she did not tire of him. He was becoming more and more sure that she was not of the Night and Elune, as he was.

"Neither, my Lady." He bowed slightly again, feeling sweat begin to grow on his brow despite the chill in the air. "While I feel no enmity towards other elves, I find my hatred for a certain Legion growing with every passing day."

Her laughter was like bells, soft as well as powerful. "How honestly you speak to me!" She exclaimed. With a wave her Drake released its curl around her and retreated to the shadows behind her. Theozsal felt slightly less threatened, and shifted his charge. "You intrigue me further; do you fear the Arcane ways?"

He blinked. "Erm, no? I have faced many a demon and many a magical power. Fearing them only weakens my defenses to them."

This time her laughter also brought her into the firelight. The flames that lit into the air also cast a soft glow to her features, and Theozsal was entranced by her sudden appearance. She was in no way a night elf; for all that she was tall enough to probably touch her nose to his chin, her face had a slender, more delicate beauty to them. Her lips were a soft pink, but her eyes were closed and denied him view of their depths.

"Then you embrace the druidic ways?"

Startled from observation, he responded mindlessly. "Of course not. While they weave themselves into the Emerald dream, I weave myself to be one with my blades, and with the shadow." Biting his tongue, the rogue called himself several kinds of idiot as the other elf was silent.

"A rogue… how interesting. My sister is a rogue." She fiddled with some piece of jewelry on her finger. "She warned me of the poisons at a rogue's disposal." Silent again, she watched him from the shadows, and he stared back, eyes wide.

Before he could as much as blink she held a large, two handed sword to his throat. Cursing, he cradled his charge to his stomach and rolled away, coming up with one hand held before him in a plea.

"Please! Anar'alah belore!" He pleaded in stuttering Thalassian. She paused, her blade at the top of a descent aimed at his head. Though he had mispronounced belore, she waited for a moment. "I mean you no harm, Ippeas! I only travel to Telaar!"

"Then you would pass word of my presence!" She snapped in response.

"No! I travel in peace, I swear!" He did not want to draw his own blade, for fear of loosing his precious charge, but should she not lower her weapon he feared his mount would step in to protect him.

Suddenly she turned and walked away. Her blade was re-sheathed and she seated herself across the fire from him. Confused, he returned to his feet, and she spoke, "You are very lucky. You will possibly never realize how lucky you are."

Theozsal blinked at her, completely caught off guard. Her face was still partly hidden by the shadows cast by her cloaks hood, but her full and shaped lips were within view, and he felt entranced as she continued, "I will not kill you now, but I must ask why Theozsal Darkstar is not hurrying to deliver his precious cargo."

The Night Elf was truly stunned now, and sat down on a rock across from her. "How… how did you-"

"How many Night Elves cross the land with a Gryphon and a black Nightsaber, with a bulging mass of furs and a squawking baby Gryphon?"

As if it knew it was being spoken of, the small catlike creature stuck its head from its wrappings to swipe the air at her. Theozsal held him slightly tighter, eyes fixed on the figure across from him.

"How do you know my name?"

Her laughter was much darker this time, and he had a sinking feeling that he should have avoided the fire light. "Why, dear Theozsal, I am supposed to retrieve the little Nipio. Why did you think you had to bring it to Nagrand, Telaar of all places?" Her hand gestured to the fields that were lit by lightening. The wind picked up again, causing the baby gryphon in his hold to grumble its displeasure and burrow back into warmth.

Theozsal waited for another moment of quiet, thinking slowly. His leg ached harder, and he fervently wished he had a proper healer look at it back at Shattrath, but he knew it would not make much of a difference.

The wind settled suddenly, and he sighed. "If you were sent to kill me, I only ask that you do not harm my mounts. They-"

"Sent to kill you?" She rose, "Do not assume that since you are still breathing I am a poor assassin. I could kill you before you ever knew I moved, make no mistake." She shuffled her cloak around her, and threw back her hood as the wind tore across the land again.

Theozsal immediately took in what shadows had hidden from him, and bit his tongue to keep from gaping. Instead of light hair, as he expected, her locks were a deep sapphire, a color he assumed she wore to help disguise her heritage. Bands of silver adorned her ears and one of her nostrils. He wondered how he did not see them sparkle, but the thought was carried away as she took his eyes with her own.

"Theozsal, I was sent to escort you from Telaar. Thrall has spoken to Jaina, who spoke on his behalf to the dwarves. A gryphon hatchling has been traded over to a Horde handler, but for what I do not know." Her eyes narrowed. "That you are dawdling in your travels only furthers my concerns."

"Hold on," he began to counter, "How am I to believe this is how the story goes. For all I know you could be a hunter seeking to steal the nestling for yourself."

She tossed her cloak aside to reveal full plate armor that shone in the firelight. Her sword he had already seen, but the tabard she wore made him pale in the light of the fire.

"Su…Sundragon?"

"The peace talks are not as successful as Jaina would have liked. Thrall wishes to ease her concerns, and thus, sent me to verify that all goes as planned, and to keep things from botching up." She rose and came around the fire to tower over him. He stared up at her, muscles locked. A Sundragon… sent to him-

She suddenly sat beside him, crooning something. He didn't catch it, but the baby gryphon scrambled from its cocoon to swipe her outstretched hand. Suddenly coming to his senses, he swept the baby into his arms and backed away. "A Sundragon… Jaina sent… I wasn't…"

Sighing, she remained seated. "You were to be informed that your contract was changed when you reached Telaar. This storm might have stopped the messenger, I worry. You will stay with me, and I will escort you to your settlement. There, you may either remain and turn the responsibility over to me, or you may continue to the meeting place."

"I don't… this isn't… I can't…"

"Do you want proof?"

Dumbly, he nodded. A hand stretched out, towards the shadows. Moments later, a small crystal soared through the air to land in her palm, fitting snugly. She said nothing, but the crystal glowed an eerie green before a grunt sounded.

"Greetings, Warcheif."

"Sundragon? What do you need?" Theozsal let his jaw drop as the orcs voice floated into the air. "Does everything go well?"

"Yes, Warcheif. Tell father his troops may have problems in Nagrand later this week though; a storm of some magical properties has built. Perhaps inquire to the mages of its nature?"

"Of course. Will that be all?"

"No, not quite…" her eyes flicked to Theozsal, who was still attempting to digest the fact that the Warcheif Thrall was having a casual conversation within the vicinity. "It would seem that Theozsal Darkstar stumbled across my little camp. He is having a hard time understanding that the simple delivery he was assigned to turned out to be not so simple, as he has yet to reach Telaar. I need something to verify my story."

"Certainly. You wouldn't like to speak directly to Jaina or Tyrande would you?"

She crinkled her nose. "No, thank you. Is there some safe word he may know?"

"Let me see… I believe the one that Jaina told me was something in elvish. Though, you may tell him that his brother Faenai Darkstar has a child named Zalthae, in his honor."

Theozsal spluttered. "But the baby wasn't due for another two weeks!"

The she-elf grinned. "Thank you, Warcheif. Any update on…?"

"Amahel has yet to send word. Don't worry," the Warcheif continued, "I'm sure she is safe. I will contact you with updates."

"Of course. Shorel'aran, Warcheif."

Turning back to Theozsal, she smiled lightly. "Does that convince you?"

He hesitated, still clutching the hatchling. "I don't know." He said honestly. "You… are a Sundragon?"

She nodded. "Though I will not reveal as to which sister I am."

"Enough of this." Theozsal nearly leapt from his skin as the Nether Drake moved into the firelight, tail skimming the ground. "Tell the Night one I will take him to his Telaar after this storm breaks." The great creature shifted, talons gauging into the ground and churning up the dark soil.

"Zatistrasz don't be silly." The Sundragon quickly replied, turning from Theozsal. "He will travel to Telaar with me, and from there to the meeting, if he so chooses to go. Knowing you, he would end up in the middle of Garadar with naught but a few lacking Thalassian phrases to hold off the Mag'har."

The Drake hissed quietly but said nothing, instead choosing to curl around the fire that was dwarfed by his mass. His deadly tail ended suspiciously close to Theozsal, who felt his two mounts shy away.

"So Theozsal," she continued, as if nothing were strange about the two conversing, "Why are you not on the road to Telaar?"

The rogue cast his eyes to the coals that burned in the fire. Seeing where his gaze was, she turned and tossed several more logs onto it, and curled her hand, bringing the fire to a blaze. He tensed at this display of power, still uneasy despite the obvious treaty between the two of them.

"I… feared for the little one." He told her. It was only half a lie, really. He had worried the storm was too much for the baby.

"I see…"

"He lies."

Zatistrasz set his glossy eyes on the Night Elf, coolly watching him as he continued, "Something pains him, though he hides his weakness."

She snapped something to the Drake in her native tongue, too fast for Theozsal to follow. But the Drake nodded and looked smug, despite the obvious reprimand.

"What ails you? Does this pain handicap you to the point that you are incapable of travel?"

"Nothing ails me, I assure you." He grumbled. Nychta crawled to nuzzle his good leg, and he let his hand fall to the massive head. "It is an old war wound; there is nothing a healer may do to fix it."

She sighed, tucking an azure piece of hair behind her ear. "If you are certain…"

"Yes." He rose, taking his now sleeping charge and placing it closer to the fire. With both hands free, he took out a small figurine and rubbed it absentmindedly. The other elf sensed he felt the need for silence, and leaned into her Drake. The storm raged on, but moved slowly away.

Several hours later, his charge woke, apparently hungry. With the Sundragon watching intently he fed it strips of tough jerky that smelled slightly stale. The youngling cawed in displeasure, and Theozsal felt the other elf kneel next to him.

"What is wrong with it?"

"Her." The rogue corrected, "She doesn't like the jerky, but it's the only thing I have for her to eat."

A ripping sound cut through the air and Theozsal looked up to see her carrying fresh meat to him. At his questioning sound, she shrugged. "Zatistrasz was hungry, and a clefthoof wandered a little too close."

The gryphon gobbled the meat greedily, sinking its claws into the bloody muscle and tearing into it. The two elves watched the grisly spectacle for a moment before she cleared her throat.

"Should your companions hunger, there is some left."

The two animals leapt across the fire, their fear of the Drake all but evaporated at the hint of a fresh meal. She turned to catch him giving her a quizzical look. "My sisters would be furious if they thought I let animals go hungry."

"Why are you doing this?"

* * *

Riseon Feravel Sundragon let the Night Elf's question sink into her mind. She toyed with several responses, one of which being very violent, before giving it actual thought.

When her father asked this favor of her, she viewed it as another chore she must do, similar to clearing the backyard of Scourge, fetching supplies for her mother across continents, doing the dishes, forging weapons, and cleaning the estate. When she was introduced to the Warcheif Thrall, she viewed it as a game, for at first, the Warcheif treated her like a child. She supposed her father must have mentioned her lack of age, but within the hour she was suddenly a source of intelligence for the Warcheif, and during her two day stay at the Valley of Wisdom, she was rarely away from the orc's side. When she was told to hurry and reach Telaar while relaxing in Shattrath, she saw it only as a favor Thrall would owe her.

But at the sight of the Elf, stumbling upon her camp and making an idiot of himself, she found herself truly astounded at his personality. He was so very different that any of the males her mother sent to quest with her, and held no similarities to the orcs and trolls in Orgrimmar either.

Most entrancing of all was the precious animal he carried and was willing to lose his life for. She never passed a thought of the Alliance's flying travel, but at such close range, she could only admire the feline grace and eagle like regality that the creature commanded.

"I do this, because Warcheif Thrall asked it of me, and I respect him more than any- aside from Father. I do this, because for once I am doing something that is important to me, as well as the Horde. I do this, because I have spent many years mucking about my estates and living easily, and when I reached the real world, I learned more than any years of disobedience and punishment could teach me." Here she briefly touched her hair and smiled, as though remembering a fond memory. "I do this… to prove something to elves with sticks up their bums who refuse to see the changes coming."

And her eyes dropped their green radiance, turning a stunningly bright blue.

* * *

Theozsal listened to her speak in silence, feeling as though he watched some revelation occur in her mind, one that he had no real right to see. He suddenly reminded himself that she was the enemy, but for all his effort, he could not feel enmity toward the young Sundragon. She touched her hair, and he almost asked for the story, but stopped himself.

And when her eyes changed colors, as he watched them, he wondered how many times she would surprise him in one night.

"Not all of us are as corrupt as Kael'thas." She muttered, and she looked up at the smoke slowly rising from their fire.

Their fire.

Theozsal wondered when it had turned into _theirs _and not merely _hers_. He also wondered at her sudden appeal to him, and attempted to remember if Blood Elves knew any seducing spells.

A small sphere of smoke, no larger than his thumb, slowly drifted towards the two elves. She beckoned to the fire, brining a red hot coal from its depths and immersing it in the smoke. Concentrating, she compressed the sphere, beads of sweat growing on her brow.

It was Zatistrasz who finished what she started, encasing the sphere in a bit of sand and turning it to glass. The show of magic impressed Theozsal, but he was utterly taken aback when she handed him the freshly made jewel, smiling.

The coal was encased in a smoky glass, making it hard to see the warm glow. He turned it this way and that, inspecting the bauble. When he looked up, he saw that her very blue eyes were on the figurine he had brought from his bags.

Before she could ask, he whisked it from her sight, tucking it deep into on of his pouches. She bit her lip, not daring to ask of the female figure that he held so dearly moments before.

"Thank you." He whispered, "For the coal. It is wonderful."

She looked away. Her armor didn't seem to fit her personality, he realized. She was very open, and it seemed the armor was merely means to what ends she wanted. "I meant it as a peace gift."

He rolled it in his hands, feeling the light warmth. "I must ask…" he began, "How did you…" Theozsal motioned to her eyes.

"My sister learned how to ease the addiction. With it out of the way, another sister was able to cleanse our family's bodies with pure Light." She shrugged, as if the miracle was of nothing. "They purified me when I was still in the womb, so I don't remember it."

Theozsal frowned. "I thought the Sundragon was an old family. Your sisters are only barely younger than me, aren't they?"

"Well, how old are you?"

"About 175." He responded easily. Her eyes widened.

"175?" She repeated. He nodded. "My eldest sister is going on 45!"

Here Theozsal was blindsided. If they were so young, she could be…

"How old are you?" He asked quietly.

"Twenty-two."

He leapt to his feet, seeking distance. "By Elune!" He suddenly felt foolish for fearing her. She was but a youngling! Probably barely out of training, and here he was already half in love with -

He froze in walking towards Nychta. That line of thinking seemed to have gone awry somewhere. He shook his head, blushing for some reason as he kept his face from her. She seemed so mature! And she was very easy to speak to, for all her appearance was disconcerting. And she was a Sundragon… what were the odds?

Glancing back at her, he found she had crooned the baby gryphon into settling in her lap like a cat, playing with one blue chunk of hair that fell over her shoulder.

Her face was slender, but seemed mature, with deep set eyes and arching full brows. Her lips were luscious, inviting despite their strange pink coloration. Long hair was finger combed away from her face, and fell in a silky waterfall barely to her shoulders.

She looked up and smiled at him. "It is such an innocent thing, isn't it?"

He drew his line of thought away from her before his maturity showed itself, instead nodding.

"You are so young… Why did your father send you on such a risky mission?"

She sighed breathily, as if this was a conversation she had many times before, and he realized she might very well have. "You forget we age differently. It is a mistake many make. I am as mature as a… say… 35 year old human I suppose, or one of your kind that is maybe 150." She shrugged. "I have lacking knowledge when it comes to age comparison. However," she narrowed her eyes, "I have seen enough of this world, and of Azeroth, that I am in no way a child. Do not make that mistake."

He nearly groaned. With every passing word, he realized who she reminded him of, and the memory was too fresh for him to pass it off easily. Without responding, he turned away again.

However, Theozsal forgot his aching leg, and turning seemed to be the last straw. With a guttural gasp of agony, his leg collapsed under his weight, and he immediately propped himself on his arms, swearing to Elune.

She fell to her knees at his side, gently setting down the Gryphon. "Theozsal? What is wrong?"

The muscles in his neck took a moment to loosen enough for him to respond. "My… leg…"

Her eyes flashed a green light, and her hands sparkled slightly. Moments later she yanked her hand back.

"By the Light!" She swore, "What enemy did you anger so, that they inflicted such a wound. And they must have somehow gotten close…"

He turned his face away. "I will not say, Sundragon."

"May I heal it? You must be in great pain-"

"No." He grimaced, pulling his leg away from her outstretched hands. "No Priest or Shaman could ease the curse. I doubt a nameless Sundragon Paladin could do more."

She was silent, a hurt look on her face. Theozsal regretted the insult, but bit his lip instead of apologizing.

"Call me Feravel." She snapped. When he looked at her with his large eyes, she turned her face away to the shadows. "It is not my true name, but it will suffice."

She could not stand the pain in his body, and instead scooped up the baby Gryphon and cuddled it to her chest at her seat before the fire. If she ignored the Night Elf, perhaps he would get better on his own.

She knew it was a foolish thought. The wound had weakened his leg, and it was now slightly broken. The muscle was being eaten away slowly; at this rate, he would be lucky to be able to stand by the end of the month.

Telling him this, she refused to watch his reaction. She knew if she was denied the ability to walk, let alone fight, she would be enraged.

"It is as I suspected." He slowly said. "I will let it run its course then. I deserve it."

She ached to ask him, but she knew he would probably get defensive, and that was no good. Instead she helped him to his cat's side, where he curled up and fell into a light sleep.

Surprised, she covered him with a light travel blanket. The storm had disappeared from the sky and was now further North east, leaving the moon to light the land. Riseon watched him sleep for a few minutes, pleased that he trusted her already, and placed a hand on his injured leg.

The break was an easy fix, but she would have trouble re-growing the muscle tissue. Her magics finally came to wear on her body, and she fell into a slumber at Zatistrasz' side, one of his wings covering her and keeping her warm.

In her dreams, Riseon healed Theozsal, and he was so thankful he told her his life story, and she shared hers. Her dream drifted off as he explained the figurine, but returned full blast with her nestling into his arms.


	2. Part 2

Riseon woke to the sound of the baby Gryphon squalling and rose to feed it, seeing Theozsal stir from the corner of her eye. He only rose when the babe was fed, and crouched close to the ground, as if uncertain of his own whereabouts.

"Calm down." She blandly ordered. "It is close to sunrise." She rifled through her pack, pulling out several rolls stuffed with preserved meat and cheese. With a flick of her fingers, the food hung in the warm air coming from the coals of the fire as she groomed Zatistrasz. Theozsal eyed the girl for a moment before tending to his own mounts.

"Where will you go now?" He asked her slowly, leaning on Nychta. The cat purred lowly, nuzzling his hand.

"After I escort you to Telaar, I will report to Garadar. This afternoon the next messenger will meet me and give the Gryphon to me. We have prepared its return to Azeroth, where Thrall will take it." She finished her morning chores and pulled the now steaming rolls from the fire. Two went to Theozsal, who ate them silently.

Riseon banked the fire after they had eaten and glanced around them. Theozsal could not keep his eyes from her face; in the warm morning light she seemed beautiful to the Night Elf.

"I would like for us both to fly, but with your land mount I find that impossible." She fastened her hood, tucking her hair from sight. "I will ride above you. We should reach Telaar by midmorning."

Without another word she leapt to the saddle of the Drake, who snorted at Theozsal and exploded into flight, leaving the rogue to himself on the ground.

Mercifully, the Gryphon slept during his journey. The windswept fields were eerily quiet but for the creatures. Normally an adventurer or two would be roaming the fields.

Theozsal was nervous, though. He shifted his hold on his reins, glancing above him at the dot in the sky that was Feravel.

"Feravel…" he murmured, and returned his gaze to the road. "Feravel." The name sounded foreign in his mouth. Sundragon flowed like a breeze from his lips, but Feravel made his throat tighten nervously.

It was intimate. To call her Sundragon was to keep things distant. They would 'work together' for the sake of their people, but once it was over, she would be any other Blood Elf, albeit a Sundragon. Just a Sundragon. Just another Blood Elf. Just another… enemy.

Theozsal could not convince himself of the distance. She had blue hair and eyes, and a smile he would never forget. She had haunted his fitful dreams the night before, and her image was torturing him even in the day. She was unbiased by his race. She did not seem as scary as his Night Elvin brothers swore all Sundragons were.

Theozsal heaved a long sigh, wishing he could hate her and knowing he could not.

She was a Sundragon.

She reminded him of Laflanna.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

* * *

Riseon did not know of the Night Elf's dilemma. She was far to distracted by her duty to protect the hatchling.

Zatistrasz swooped and turned again, enjoying the warm breezes. "Why are you so concerned?" He rumbled over the wind. "We are almost there. The hatchling will be fine."

Riseon ducked her head, fighting a blush. "Yes, I know. He is a good man. He will protect it with his life." She took a breath, fighting the strange feeling in her chest. "I sense honor in him."

Zatistrasz snorted. "You sense honor? He is a rogue. All the honor they have goes to their precious shadow cults hiding under the stairs of inns. This is merely another job to him. He will forget it when he is assigned to kill someone."

"I don't know…" She frowned. "He did not seem so eager to fight. He was willing to be peaceful with me." Sighing, the Elf shook her head. "I don't know though. My head is very muddled."

"Sounds like someone is getting interested."

Her muscles locking, the Paladin clenched her jaw and fought the urge to duck her head again. "Interested? I don't know what you mean."

But the Drake was silent, soaring downward. He skimmed the ground with a claw, raking the grasses. Riseon moved with him, leaning as he curved in flight to glide beside the Night Elf and his charge.

"How goes it?" She called, shoving her previous conversation from mind.

Startled from his thoughts, Theozsal hoarsely called, "Fine," thanking the God's she hadn't come down minutes before she did. "How is the view? It must be wonderful."

"I do not see anyone around. While this may be a blessing, I feel uneasy." If she blushed at his flirty tone, she hoped he would not notice. "Telaar is coming into view though." She remembered, and bit her lip. "I feel if I follow much closer they will send troops to your aid."

Theozsal realized she was correct, and halted Nychta. Zatistrasz turned sharply in the air, landing with a thud next to cat, rider, and Gryphon.

Taking in a breath, Theozsal's mind scrambled for something to say. There were no proper manners for such a situation between 'enemies', though he felt the need to say something.

"I… am thankful, Feravel." He forced out, almost cringing at her name. She stared at him until he continued. "You… you have shown me something. I'm very grateful to you."

And if he sounded like any more of an idiot, he was sure she would send him to the crazy house in Shattrath.

"It was my duty, Darkstar. I was sworn to the hatchling." She fiddled with her reins, and Theozsal was surprised to see her blush. "This afternoon… if… if you were to be the messenger to represent at the meeting, I wouldn't mind taking you. If you don't know the way." She hastily added. "And if you didn't mind leaving your own mounts. And…" she stopped, shaking her head. "What am I saying… I apologize. Perhaps we will meet again, Theozsal." A timid small graced her face, inviting him to return the gesture.

Riseon pointed to his pocket. "Keep the coal." He felt his pocket, feeling the warmth pulse from the bauble. "Let it remind you of me."

Extremely embarrassed now, she nodded curtly and nudged Zatistrasz. Blushing furiously, she rapidly climbed into the sky, disappearing before long.

Theozsal grinned at her retreat for a moment, before pressing on to Telaar.

* * *

"Light, did he smell horrible?"

Riseon thanked the innkeeper at Garadar and accepted the glass of wine. Turning to her companion, she gave him a cool stare. "He smelled like the road, as any would after traveling nonstop from Shattrath."

"Yes, but, didn't he reek of Earthmagic?"

The paladin sighed, taking a sip of wine and wishing she could have gotten ale. Or at least something more potent. "I didn't notice, Ahti. Perhaps you should tell a Tauren that you would like to see if they reek of Earthmagic as well. I'm sure the warrior in the corner over there would appreciate it." She set down her glass and stared at the Blood Elf sitting next to her. "I told you he was a rogue. He doesn't have anything to do with druid magic." Fiddling with her glass, she continued, "He even showed a disliking to anything Druidic."

"He- oh no Riseon, you've got that look. You didn't go all experimental on him did you?"

"I'd never met a friendly Night Elf before!" She retorted, praying she didn't blush. "Besides, I will probably see him again and I wanted to see what he is like."

"He's a womanizing narcissistic pig who was probably checking you out the whole time. I _knew_ your father should have sent one of his soldiers…"

"He isn't womanizing _or _narcissistic!" Riseon defended. "And he never looked at me like that. He was different, I tell you!"

Ahti smirked. "Riseon, you just admitted you had never met a Night Elf before. Just forget about him. I'll go in your stead to retrieve the hatchling and-"

"No." She interrupted. "I took the task, and I will see it finished." She glared her friend in the eye, purposely shifting her eye color. "Do not underestimate my control."

Defeated, Ahti held up his hands. "Alright. I trust you. Just be careful. Night Elves are known to be tricksy. Don't let your guard down for even a _second_ or your mother will kill me."

* * *

"Theozsal! Why are you so late?! You were supposed to get here last night!"

Theozsal grimaced at Isel, who was tapping an arrogant hoof. "I got caught in the storm, keep your tail on." He had already been reprimanded by Luftasia, who took his mounts without as much as a pleasant greeting. "I feared if I continued I would be helpless if attacked."

"Well you worried me." The Draenei said, and at her tone, Theozsal winced. She sauntered over to the tall elf and placed a kiss on his defined jaw, slipping a hand onto his shoulder. "I missed you. You haven't been by to see me in months."

"About that…" he began, and slid her hand off carefully. "There's, ah, this problem…"

Isel's eyes widened. "What? What's wrong?"

"I don't think that this," he gestured between them, "is such a good idea. I'm going to be traveling a lot more now and I don't think we will work out in the long run."

Isel stared at him for a long moment, and the Night Elf assumed she would be understanding.

Two minutes later Theozsal stumbled out of the inn, escaping the shrieks of the Draenei woman. A pot flew out the door after him, and he ducked. Luftasia laughed nearby, and chucked a groom brush at his head. It missed, connecting with his leg instead.

Desperate, the elf hobbled behind a building nearby, leaning his back on the wall. A dwarf laughed at him, saying something about Night Elf sex tendencies. Theozsal snarled at the short paladin before turning and limping toward the building Khan stayed in.

"Theozsal? What took you so long?"

The rogue looked up at the interrogator, wincing as his leg shot a spasm of pain up its length. "Gracious Elune, it's no wonder I spend my days away from Telaar. Everyone greets me as if they had been waiting on me for weeks just so they could resume their lives." Stumbling to the wall closer to Khan, he scowled. "I'm taking the hatchling to the meeting place in a little while. I met the Horde messenger, a Sundragon, during the storm last night. It was my luck that she was the real one. Had an assassin been at that fire I assure you the gryphon would be gone and I dead." He took a minute to slide down the wall, closing his eyes.

Khan gaped at the rogue, who was in obvious pain. "You… you just… the Sundragon?"

Nodding, Theozsal reopened his eyes. "She was impassive to me when I first appeared. I let slip I was a rogue and she almost killed me. Luckily she caught sight of the hatchling and recognized me as its carrier. After that, she convinced me about the trade between factions. She-" Theozsals eyes lit up, "By Elune! She spoke to that Warcheif Thrall! Right there at the fire like they were friends!"

"They might well be." The Draenei shook his head, "All I know is that there will be a blue haired Sundragon outside our walls at noon, and we are to send a peaceful representative with them with 'the package'. AKA, the hatchling." He swiped his brow. "A Sundragon… well, at least we don't have to worry about any more of it after the beast is off your hands. We're having enough trouble with those Ogres, we don't need the Horde sniffing around."

Theozsal nodded, rising again. "I'll go fetch the hatchling. I let it rest with the other gryphons, but I think it's about time Feravel showed up."

"Yes, of course. Go ahead and- wait."

Theozsal paused, suddenly wary.

"…Feravel?"

Gulping, the rogue turned and met the Draenei's gaze. The interrogator was frowning.

"Do not, under any circumstances, become attached to a Sundragon on _any _level." He ordered. Theozsal stiffened. "They are murdering, corrupted wielders of magic. They are as horrible as any Blood Elf, and worse than the rest of the Horde." One of his thick fingers pointed between the Night Elf's eyes. "Never forget that they are the enemy."

Theozsal could not bring himself to speak, and merely nodded curtly before stepping back outside.

* * *

Riseon finished bathing in the small bathhouse and dressed in cloth. After a long glance at the sky she took out her polishing cloths and went over her armor, buffing out a scratch from one of her recent scuffles. Finding she still had time before the meeting, she sparred with the warriors of the Mag'har.

It was during the middle of one such spar that the edges of her senses tingled. She rolled away from the next hit, countered with a fake stab and ended the fight quicker than normal with a flick of her wrist that placed her blade at her opponents throat. The orc was surprised as they bowed to each other.

"Something wrong, Sundragon?"

Riseon shook her head slowly, not in refusal, but as if to clear it. "I don't know…" she muttered. "I feel as if something is wrong. Perhaps a charm I set has been broken-"

Zatistrasz shrieked as he plummeted from an overhead island, landing in the stream near his rider with a large splash. "Riseon! We are under attack!"

There was a sudden burst of activity as the war hardy people prepared for enemies. Riseon threw aside her sparring weapon and waded into the water to see if she could aide her companion.

A large slash oozed blood from his shoulder, under one arm and onto part of his chest. Riseon's blood boiled, and the healing spell exploded from her lips and hands. The wound leaked pus and dirt before closing and healing, until only a light blue scar remained.

Turning, she ran for her belongings at the inn, dodging warriors as they took on positions.

"Do you see them?"

"I don't see them… who was it?"

"Where are the-"

"In the sky! Aerial attack!"

Despite herself, Riseon froze with the crowd around her, looking up to see several hooded and cloaked people dropped from bats to land between her and the inn. Three held off the Mag'har, while four leapt towards her.

Cursing, for she had an idea as to what this was about, the Sundragon threw Light from her body and knocked the assassins back. With one leap she caught a branch of a nearby tree and pushed off, rolling as she hit the ground past the attackers and coming to her feet running.

"Riseon! Are you alright!?"

She shoved past her friend without pause, grabbing up her armor and shrugging it on as fast as she could. "Fine, Ahti. Help me get this on. Theozsal is in danger and I-"

The Elf rogue paused in doing up one of her straps. "Please tell me you are not actually worried about a Night Elf when your _friends _are out there fighting, under attack because you are among them."

Finishing the buckles by herself, she grabbed the front of Ahti's tabard, pulling him towards her. "You had better believe that I am worried about a very important creature that is currently helpless, and if that Night Elf comes to any harm the Alliance is going to blame his protector, and thus the Horde. That thing is precious to _both _sides, and it's my duty to keep it in the correct hands." Turning, she released her friend and grabbed her sword. "Beside's, the Mag'har can handle themselves."

"That we can."

Riseon jumped at the new voice, turning to see Geyah, Thrall's grandmother, grinning beside them. "Don't worry about us. Go take care of what you need to." She made a shooing motion to the young elf. "And while you're at it, tell Thrall I said hello."

Bowing, the Sundragon shot a last look at Ahti before bolting outside. The assassins looked like they were beating a hard retreat, and Garrosh was charging towards Riseon with a look that made her want to turn tail and hide behind Geyah.

"Sundragon!" He thundered, and pressed his face close to hers as he snarled, "What the Nether was this attack about! We've got pure chaos around here and you're just dallying in the inn-"

"A piece of a very dire trade is currently in danger." She interrupted, attempting to remain calm. "Every second I am away from the other target of this mess, is one more second that the enemy has advantage of. Should my charge come to any harm, I have no doubt there will be more bloodshed on Azeroth, and this time Thrall and Jaina will have no control over their forces." Loosing her grasp on her emotions, her eyes flashed blue and green, and waves of Light and magic bent the air around her. "So every moment I waste explaining matters that you have no part in is another moment you will be paying for from Thrall."

And without another word she shoved past the orc that was thrice as strong as her and a head taller and leapt onto Zatistrasz's back. Without a backward glance, she sped off for Telaar, praying to the Light she wasn't too late.

* * *

Theozsal felt something was very wrong. The ember Feravel had given him was throbbing with heat as he approached the figure outside of Telaar. The hatchling in his arms fought his hold, acting very different around the Blood Elf than she did last night.

"Hello, Feravel." He greeted, several yards from her and wary as ever. "Long time no see."

And before he could even take another breath, the figure's hand snapped up and magic consumed him. The gryphon shrieked as he released it, but instead of falling away the hatchling struggled to fly, retreating behind the Night Elf.

Gritting his teeth, Theozsal pulled out his two weapons, swinging at the enemy. One missed, but his second sword clipped the robe and tore it off, revealing a troll that he presumed was of the Witherbark tribe. Cursing, the she-troll cast another spell on him, and he struggled to stay on his feet as the world began to darken. He blocked the swing of a staff aimed for his head, listening more than seeing. Squinting his eyes, he leaned away from another wild swing and came back to stab her in the gut.

His vision was still wavering, but he managed to catch sight of three more troll shaped figures running towards him.

Grunting, he forced his body to remain upright. "Dammit Feravel, where are you…"

* * *

Zatistrasz beat his wings furiously, urged hard by his rider. The Night Elf was just one against however many of those damn Witherbarks they could manage. The hatchling was in danger, and she might not even get there in time to see them escape…

"Look!" the Drake beneath her thundered, pointing and diving at the same time. She scanned the ground, catching sight of a figure riding hard towards Garadar on a cat.

"Is it them?" She asked, leaning forward, the wind blowing hard on her face as they streaked towards the ground. "Is it the hatchling?"

It didn't make a difference. Zatistrasz came zooming up from behind the Night Elf, grabbing both him and the mount up in his claws and returning to higher elevations.

The cat screamed in terror, but Theoszal, with the hatchling clinging to his leather armor and screaming, crawled around the Drakes neck to feel blindly for the rider.

"By Elune if you are not Feravel I'm going to-"

Riseon interrupted him by throwing herself forward and grabbing him with one arm while clinging to Zatistrasz with the other as they made a crash landing on a large floating island high above the ground. The cat screeched again and darted from the Drake's hold, but fumbled to a stop at the edge of the island.

Riseon and Theozsal tumbled from the saddle, the Night Elf still blindly clinging to both the Blood Elf and hatchling, as Zatistrasz moaned in exhaustion and collapsed.

"Theozsal it's me! It's Ri-Feravel!" She checked him for wounds quickly, touching his bleeding sleeve and side tenderly before grabbing up the Gryphon. "Is she alright? Did they use magic on her?"

Theozsal sighed in relief and flopped onto his back, eyes wide and unseeing. "Yes, she should be fine. Elune guide me, for a minute there I thought I was dead meat."

Placing the hatchling under one of Zatistrasz's large claws, she turned back to the rogue and fell to her knees beside him. Releasing a sigh, along with it most of her tension, she tried a shaky smile. "I was very worried about you. When I felt the coal absorb several spells, I thought they had captured you and were torturing you for information."

The Night Elf shook his head. "I don't know what they did, but I'm just glad Zatistrasz could find an island to land on." Reaching out he grabbed for her hand. "Don't wander, you might fall off."

Suddenly troubled again, Riseon leaned over him. "What do you mean?" She asked slowly.

"I mean this darkness they cast. It's like nighttime, only I can't see a blasted thing like I normally can."

Paling, Riseon waved a hand in front of the other elf's glowing eyes. They didn't move. "Theozsal…" she began, voice shaky with worry, "It's bright as hell out."

He froze. "No, no it's not. It's pitch black."

Wincing, Riseon let her magic flow over his eyes. As she suspected, they cast a blinding curse on him. "Oh Light, Theozsal… they blinded you!"

He surged forward, grabbing her hands and facing her. "No… no they can't have." She responded with a gasp. "Can't you heal it?!"

"It's a very magical wound! I don't even specialize in healing!" She clenched her fist and released it, calling the Light to her fingers. Trembling, she brushed it like paint over his other wounds, slowly healing them. "If I try, I could burn myself out. Then you would be helpless to any attacks."

"Like I'm not already!" He gripped her hands, trying vainly to see. Snarling, he bent his head forward, mind racing.

"Kill me."

Now Riseon froze, heart pounding in her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "Wha- Theozsal I can't-"

"Do it." He turned his face back up to hers, grimacing in pain. "I'm going to go lame in a month from my leg, without my sight I am helpless. And…" He turned his face away, clenching his teeth.

"Without my wife, Laflanna, I have nothing to live for."

Riseon was stunned. Her mouth slowly dropped open as she realized he was serious. Her mind raced though, trying to catch hold of reality so she could sort this out.

But poor Theozsal… Night Elves married for life. To be widowed, or divorced, or-

"Wait…Did this Laflanna follow the Priestly ways?"

Theozsal attempted to hide a sob with a cough. Riseon's eyes widened further.

"She cursed your leg?" When he didn't answer, she shook his hands. "Theozsal, did your wife try to kill you?"

"Kill me!" He moaned. "Kill me like she failed to. Finish it. You've got the Gryphon." He dropped her hands, leaning his head onto her collarbone and letting the tears fall out of her sight. "Take what you want of be, but do me one favor and kill me."

"I… I…" She blinked, closing her mouth and pressing her eyes closed. The situation she sat in was surreal, and she knew her father would never believe this.

"Feravel, please… Sundragon," her grabbed her hand and pressed his own blade into it, "do what you are meant to do." He hiccupped, pressing his blade to his throat with her hand. "Kill the scum elf, like your family would be proud of you for."

She tore her hand away, tossing his sword aside and grabbing his hands. Something seemed strange... something she had almost forgotten, had not thought of for so long…

Her father… his one embarrassing moment of his career. It had to do with Riseon, when she was little. The paladin strained to remember, pressing her forehead to the miserable Night Elf in front of her.

She was very young. Her mother left her to Monsoon, her adoptive brother, while she went on a vacation. She was supposed to be with Father…

The tale returned to her. Father was in Outland. In Shattrath. She begged Monsoon.

She was outside the walls. Her father's enemies came. Monsoon had gone to see what was amiss with the spirits. She…

"Why did your wife try to kill you." She demanded. Theozsal moaned something in Darnassian and she shook him. "Theozsal, listen to me. I need to know why your wife cursed you!"

"She said… I betrayed the Alliance." He began to sober up, shaking his head slowly. "She said I was a soft-hearted fool who had made a terrible mistake. She told me that no corrupted elf would ever do such a thing…"

"When?"

"Wha… what?"

"When did you betray the Alliance?" She gripped him hard, taking in his features. He was handsome, but she did not let that distract her. She ignored her heart, which was pounding in her throat at their close quarter, instead urging him to tell.

"Some years ago…" He shook his head. "I don't remember exactly when the first time…"

"You have to remember." She released his hands to grab his face. If this was the one… who Monsoon told her…

"I…" he blinked. "Tw… twenty some years ago I think…"

She released him, stumbling back onto her bum. "It cannot be…"

He reached in front of himself blindly, eyes watering. "Feravel? What? Why do you-"

"Riseon."

He stopped, frowning. "Riseon? What-"

"My name is Riseon Feravel Sundragon." She spluttered. Tears were threatening to pour from her eyes now. All of the years Monsoon had searched…

"Riseon…" He looked confused for a moment. "Riseon…" His face froze as realization dawned on him. "No… not…"

"Monsoon is looking for you." She choked out. She had never thought she would ever… "The orc. He has something for you."

The rogue rubbed his face. "The odds were so out of the favor…"

"Theozsal," she said, and smiled through tears, "Theozsal Darkstar, you saved my life."

He shook his head, sadness overwhelming him again. "You don't understand Riseon…"

She crawled back to him, touching his face. "I always wanted to thank you. Oh, Theozsal, Fate has smiled upon us."

"No!" He retorted. "There was another one. An orphan. I tried… Laflanna wouldn't help… she stood there as he bled…" He clenched a fist. "She scorned me for crying over the little baby's dead body. She cursed me…" he sighed, "She left me."

Overwhelmed, Riseon shook her head. "Theozsal, you cannot save everyone. You-"

"I shouldn't even care about your kind." He snarled, but with his next words softened, "But after I saw them grab you… I couldn't let it go."

Silence followed. After a moment, Riseon fumbled at the catch of her necklace. It came free and she pressed the jewelry into his hand.

He felt it carefully. It was a ring, his family crest. He lost it during that battle…

"I've kept it with me ever since." She murmured. "I never wanted to forget the debt I owed to one Night Elf. I wanted to remind my family why I was even alive."

He shook his head. "I still deserve death." He stubbornly pressed. "I am lame and useless. I have nothing to live for…"

"I would be very sad if you were killed."

The Night Elf felt his throat tighten. "You… you shouldn't say that…"

"It's true." She shifted, leaning forward. "I think I owe you a reason to live."

"And what would it be?" He shakily replied.

"Me."

She kissed him, skimming her hands over his shoulders and holding him close to her. He responded quickly, pulling back. "I dare not, Riseon. You are so young compared to… You don't understand-"

"Correct. I don't understand why you wish to die." She turned away, hurt by his refusal. "I thought… we…"

"Impossible." He too turned away. "I am already worthless. You still have a good family and body, and a life to live."

She tried once more. "Let me share my family then. Monsoon would speak for you, despite his being a complete jackass."

"What could I offer to your family?" He laughed, "I am blind, and I am handicapped."

"Let me heal you." She whispered. "If I speak to Greatmother Geyah, she could return your sight. And with a wave of his hand my father would erase all damage of your leg."

The Night Elf wavered. "I could not… be honored like that. What have I done to deserve such gifts?"

"For starters, your own wife left you for protecting someone." She slid her hand into his, and he didn't pull away. "You risked your life for a mission that ended up for the benefit of the Horde. You _saved _my life." She touched his face, "Is my life not worth anything in your eyes?"

He stopped trying to fight her and leaned forward to capture her soft lips again. "I could never repay your kindness, Sundragon."

"Just tell me one thing, Theozsal, and I will give you a family and heal your wounds."

"Anything."

"Would you stay with me forever?"

The Night Elf faltered. Commitment… he was betrayed before…

But…

"Yes." He replied. "From the moment I saw you at the fire, I think I knew you were important. I will forever be yours."

"Zatistrasz!" She called suddenly. The Drake smirked.

"Done with your touching moments?"

She barely blushed, helping Theozsal to the Drake's saddle. "Take us back to Garadar, the cat too." She settled her savior and retrieved the Gryphon. When she was settled behind Theozsal, she thought of something.

"You will never be allowed to return to the Alliance." She suddenly said.

The rogue thought for a moment, about the cruelness of Laflanna, and the lack of caring from the people of Telaar. "I care not." He pressed her hand to his lips. "Ride on, dear one."

Laughing, she kissed the back of his neck as they dove into the air.


	3. Epilogue

_E-heh-hepilogue!_

Greatmother Geyah was surprised at the young Sundragon's request, but when the Night Elf's history was explained, she smiled. "Anything for a savior of a Sundragon."

With his eyesight replaced, Theozsal gave his new significant other a good long looking over when they reached Shattrath. After she could no longer stand the inspection, she tackled him into their room.

The next day, Thrall admitted that he had underestimated the Sundragons, and swore it was for the last time. He gave Theozsal a room in the barracks, one he admitted would be watched carefully. Theozsal didn't care; he was too terrified of the large orc to do anything but bow and stutter a thank you before being steered away by Riseon, who yet again tackled him into a room.

She was sad to say goodbye to the hatchling, having grown attached to the thing in the days she spent with it. The next day, when the pair planned to head to Silvermoon, Riseon and Theozsal attempted to say farewell to the obviously upset gryphon.

"I will come and check on you." The paladin promised, fighting tears. "Be a good baby and eat plenty of meat."

"Don't gut anybody that I wouldn't gut." The Night Elf gravely said, and tugged at Riseon.

"Oh… take good care of her Thrall!" She pleaded, sending a watery look to the Warcheif.

He shrugged, impish look on his face. "Actually, this one is a present to your father. He told me not to tell you because he meant it as a gift to your sisters as well as you. But since you are heading there anyway…"

Riseon grinned and scooped the hatchling into her arms, cooing to it as it nuzzled her.

The orb of translocation made Riseon's stomach lurch as she fell through. Quickly, she explained who she was and the business she was on to the guards, who still pointed their weapons cautiously at the Night Elf that tumbled after her with a baby Gryphon in his arms.

Theozsal couldn't keep from gaping at the wonders of Silvermoon. Riseon let him gaze at anything he wanted as they made their way to the front gates. Outside, in the woods, she picked up her warhorse. The animal snorted at the Gryphon but was otherwise un-phased as the two light elves mounted it.

The rogue bombarded her with questions as they made their way leisurely to the Sundragon estates. When they crossed the scar, his face clouded over with sorrow.

Eiravara was not home, luckily. In fact, the house was empty save for Riseon's mage sister Fiaccola. The bubbly woman grinned and hugged Theozsal in greeting before sneezing and catching the wall next to him on fire. They managed to put it out before much damage was done, but he still gave the redhead a wide berth every time he saw her.

And when Monsoon came home, ranting about some idiot or another, he was swept off his feet at the sight of Theozsal.

"Hey Monsoon," Riseon jeered, "guess who this is. That's correct; this is the guy who you owe a lot to."

The shaman stuttered something and bowed. "G-g-good to see you again."

As the orc wandered off, still dazed, Theozsal asked why the adopted brother owed him.

"Monsoon claims that something was wrong with the spirits. It turns out he left me alone to go buy himself something, and forgot about me. Since I don't remember much, Father had no reason to be mad at him. But since I know the whole story, and you are proof, then he could be in very hot water."

* * *

It wasn't until the word reached the couple that Ray Sundragon was home while they cuddled in front of a hearth that Theozsal realized he had very much to fear in the Patriarch Sundragon. Gulping, he followed his excited mate down to the entryway, where the man was hugging Fiaccola.

"Still got the cold, do you? I'll get you fixed up in a jiffy- Riseon!" He strode eagerly towards his young daughter before catching sight of the Night Elf that trembled behind her. "Uh, Riseon, who is that?"

Grinning like an imp, she turned and pulled the darker elf into her arms. "Daddy, I want you to meet Theozsal Darkstar. Theo, this is my father."

"H-h-h-h-h-h-h-"

Ray inspected his daughter for a moment before grinning at the other male elf. "Good to meet you! Very good to meet you." And he took Theozsal's hand in a friendly shake. "Welcome to the family! Anything I can do for you?"

Theozsal fainted.

With him unconscious, Ray turned back to his daughter. "Kind of a weak one, is he?"

"Actually, Father, he has a nasty curse on his leg that I was wondering if you could take a look at…"

With a wave of his hand, like Riseon expected, the curse was gone. "Done. Anything else?"

"Uhm…" Riseon tapped her chin as Theozsal came back around. "Well, I suppose you should know that he is the Night Elf who saved my life when I was a little kid."

Sudden respect bloomed in the Patriarch's eyes. As the rogue began to focus again, he found that the Father Sundragon was kneeling before him. "If there is anything you need, anything at all, know that I will do my best to give it to you. You have my thanks, and I am in your debt."

Theozsal fainted again.

That night Riseon showed the Gryphon to her family, who fell in love with the creature instantly. Eiravara, who arrived around dinner time, complained that it would probably make a mess, but was found with it curled in her lap as she wove magic.

* * *

A year later, summer bloomed particularly warm. Theozsal chased Riseon through the fields, slaying the scourge that he came across and laughing. He caught his mate when she tried to climb a tree, pulling her down and kissing her long and sweet.

"Riseon, my dear, my heart," he murmured against her lips, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"Yes, my sweet?"

"I need you to know…" he nuzzled her cheek. "I love you."

She laughed. "I knew that already, silly!" Kissing him again, she smiled. "I was just waiting for you to say it!"

He grinned wolfishly and nibbled her neck. Sighing, she leaned against the tree.

"Then it will be reasonable for me to ask for your hand in marriage?"

Riseon froze. The tree bark was rough against her back that was bare. Her shirt was a halter, tied at her neck and silky in the breeze. Theozsal leaned back, looking her deep in the eyes.

"Theo… I-"

"I told you I would stay with you forever. You have been so good to me…" He pulled a ring from his pocket. It was his family crest, the one she gave to him on the island. "I can only ever hope to repay you at least in half.

The ring slid onto her finger like it was made to be there. She pressed her right hand to her lips, holding back tears. "Theo… this is… I am…"

His kiss made her knees tremble. "Tell me, my love. Would you have me forever?"

She looked at him, at the ring, around them at the fields, at her house, at the sky. When she looked back, she grinned.

"Yes."

End.

* * *

_Finally!! Yeesh... that took a long time, and it isn't even that good!! Anyway, comment and tell me the mistakes you find, and I'll do my best to fix it. I'll try to fix it up nice and pretty later, but you guys should know by now how fickle I am with my stories._

_Many thanks to all who review and read. You mean the world to me!_


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